


Easy

by cuttlemefish



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: AU in which different creatures co-exist, Happy Ending, M/M, Some angst, Viktor with a K, World Building Stuff, attempts at adoption, challenges in relationship between a werewolf and a human, making a family, viktor is a werewolf, yuuri is a human
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-20 17:14:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13151268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuttlemefish/pseuds/cuttlemefish
Summary: Viktor Nikiforov is a werewolf in love with a human. Katsuki Yuuri is a human in love with a werewolf.  Love is easy, marriage is (marginally) harder, but adoption is legitimately difficult. Or, in a world in which different species intermingle and co-exist together in seemingly relative peace, Yuuri and Viktor try to remain blind to the challenges and prejudices of society against their inter-species relationship -- until they decide to adopt a baby, a human baby.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Grimmalie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grimmalie/gifts).



> This is a gift for Grimmalie! :) She wanted werewolves and then we discussed kidfic and so here we have werewolves and kidfic all meshed into a viktuuri AU! :)

When Viktor starts dating Yuuri, he doesn’t think anything could be as easy as loving Yuuri.

Outside of certain habits and, of course, transformation abilities, werewolves pass for humans every other day. No one bats an eyelash when they see them holding hands in the park or while walking the dog. They’re just another happy, handsome couple in love in the Spring. And that’s exactly how Viktor likes it.

Easy. And loving Yuuri is exactly that, _easy_.

.

It's not exactly taboo to be a werewolf.

No one has ever judged Viktor for something he couldn't exactly help; it’d be, he thinks, like hating a human for being, well, human. But Viktor comes to discover that lack of judgement doesn't extend to his marital decisions. The moment Viktor decides he wants -- no, that he  _will_  marry Katsuki Yuuri, the world changes for him instantly. As in, it doesn't happen by pieces; the judgement isn't silent. He makes the decision while on a run with Makkachin. With beads of sweat running down his forehead, he stops to recover when he spots a rose gold wedding band. It winks at him, like it knows exactly the type of choice that has been playing ping pong in Viktor's head. He doesn't even have to give its purchase a second thought. Viktor stops by his apartment to drop off Makkachin, then drives back to the jewelry store after a shower. 

He steps into the jewelry store, picks out the engagement ring, steps up to the register, and pulls out his credit card. 

("Bring cash," Christophe had warned him, pressed flush against his husband Alex. "It's just. Trust me. You'll want to bring cash.")

But it's such a last-minute decision, Viktor doesn't bother thinking twice when he's asked for his identification card.  _No one cares_ , he reminds himself, knowing well there's a  **W**  next to the word species, a friendly reminder that he both is and isn't who he says he is. 

"Oh," the salesman says, handing back his identification card. Sheepishly, he pulls up his cuff to show Viktor the small tattooed  **W**.

Instantly, Viktor knows he's in good company. This is someone he can trust. There will be no questions, he thinks, feeling as his anxious nerves stop pinching his neck and lower back. _The need for identification isn’t for you,_ he thinks. It’s always been about the more threatening, dangerous creatures. And so he ignores the other small pinch in the back of his mind reminding him that it’s still all wrong, still feels so wrong.

"The mate decided they want something more official? I hear you. Mine went with all the fad of the human wedding, ring and all. But, you know how it is in schools now. Pups are always asking for pictures:  _Daddy, we need wedding pictures._  We integrated over seventy years ago, you'd think we could stop with the pretensions that  _everyone_  has a Church wedding or even a wedding period."

Viktor's smiling and nodding, fully understanding the pressures (because he once, too, had to deliver a note from his parents that they had no wedding photos,) and eager to get his hands on the ring when he stops. 

"Ah, well, he's not exactly my mate," Viktor says nervously. Werewolves don’t have weddings. They choose a mate. Formalities are left to families and biology. "He's, uh, he's human."

The salesman almost chokes on his own spit, staring at Viktor for a long time before he laughs. It's a hearty, disbelieving laugh. 

"You're kidding," he says, going back to slipping the box into a velvet bag, "good one! I really almost bought it for a second. Marrying a human."

"No, I'm not..." Viktor scoffs, but remembers what Christophe said and, instead, pockets his wallet, takes his bag, and leaves. When he gets home, he feels the weight of the box heavy in his hands. A part of him feels like he needs to go back and explain, like anything else is to  _deny_  Yuuri, that he  _loves_  Yuuri more than life itself. 

Instead, he grabs his jacket and goes to wait for Yuuri to finish skating practice so he can make then dinner in between researching how to properly propose. He mulls over the speech in his head as he stirs the wrong type of cheese into a sauce. Yuuri loves homemade macaroni and cheese, and Viktor can usually deliver, except today when his mind is stuck between sharp cheddar cheese and a diamond.

He doesn’t expect to cry when he gets down on one knee (just like the online _How To_ page said) and pops open the box – and proceeds to watch the ring slide down the mount of fluff right onto Yuuri’s shaking palm.

“Viktor?” Yuuri asks, tentative.

“Will you?” Viktor says, the only thing that will come out of his mouth of all the sentences he spent hours mulling over and sprinkling over badly-made macaroni and cheese. And Yuuri laughs, pressing both hands against Viktor’s cheeks before pulling him into a deep kiss.

“So, will you…?” Viktor asks again, breathless.

Yuuri nods, beaming bright like the sun. He doesn’t even look human then.

“Of course,” he says, and Viktor smiles, letting his thumb brush over the **H** printed on the inside of his wrist.

.

Easy becomes difficult, but it’s still not exactly hard. Weddings are just stressful, he thinks to himself as Yuuri mulls over flowers, mostly struggling between hydrangeas and calla lilies. Apparently, everything for a wedding is more expensive than for a regular _anything_ else. They need to book a venue, decide on a honeymoon location, tell their friends, figure out a million and one things that all don’t earn Viktor much sympathy from his family, which has never had personal experience with a _human_ wedding before. Viktor pulls into his savings happily, though, watching Yuuri glow with the excitement of their upcoming nuptials. Anything that threatens that glow sends Viktor reeling in panic. When Yuuri can’t bring himself to get the invitation list down to 50 people, they double the number, because Viktor will do anything for that glow.

“Viktor, we don’t have to,” Yuuri tells him, worrying at his bottom lip as he runs through the list all over again.

“Yes we do, Yuuri,” Viktor says, rubbing Makkachin’s belly. “Just add fifty people more.”

“Well, okay,” Yuuri says.

They end up adding fifty people more after that.

.

Phichit has a lot of questions.

When Viktor is just _dating_ Yuuri, it’s like Viktor being a werewolf doesn’t matter, but once it’s clear that soon his friend is going to be with Viktor for his mortal lifespan, everything is suddenly very, very different. Viktor can handle it, though.

He’d had plenty of questions as a child from children that had heard the old stories about the wawkalak and the bodark. Stories of the wawkalak told of humans that – having angered an evil spirit, sometimes even the devil himself – were turned into friendly, nomadic werewolves, who went house to house, looking for love and food. The bodark, on the other hand, were transformed by choice. Viktor tries to explain in his limited language what it’s like to just _be_ , to exist as a being that has always _been_ something. He doesn’t know how to explain a present state that has never changed. His before and after is a continuum; it seems for humans, the idea of an interruptible line of existence (without them) is just strange.

“I’ve never been human,” Viktor explains to Phichit, his tone a little stilted. He is trying to smile, but the tightness in his cheek muscles betray him—along with the dampness in his eyes. “I’ve never not been this. So, the stories you’ve heard, they don’t really apply to me, I guess. I definitely don’t have the ability to turn Yuuri into a werewolf. I also don’t exactly want to; I love Yuuri because he’s Yuuri.”

Phichit nods, listening attentively as he sips on a cold iced drink. He seems to understand. Certainly, he doesn’t make any indication that Viktor “could change,” and for that Viktor is grateful.

“I think you’re going to make Yuuri really happy, Viktor,” Phichit smiles once they’re done. It’s cryptic, but it makes Viktor feel like he’s no longer carrying a heavy rock.

When they meet Yuuri for dinner later, it’s like the conversation never happened. Yuuri simply locks their hands together under the table. Their fingers twine gently, tangling into a single line—solid and clear, so strong that Viktor feels the band on Yuuri’s finger and instantly thinks they are already just half a circle away from stepping into something close to infinity _._

_._

Viktor isn’t immortal. Most of his life, he passes for human. The same things that can kill a human could easily kill him, too. Sure, he has an aversion to silver, but he tends to think of it like a pervasive, life-threatening allergy. It doesn’t make him so different at all from Yuuri.

In their matching white tuxedos, they look just like any other human couple a step away from saying _I do_ , and Viktor likes how _easy_ that feel, almost as easy as loving Yuuri.

When they kiss, Yuuri’s lips feel heavy on his own with just a tang of fresh honey. Viktor licks his lips, happy to have taste and smell to add to touch and sight to his memory bank.

After all, Viktor has enhanced senses, more so than Yuuri could ever hope to have even if he didn’t wear glasses. But having perfect vision wasn’t a blessing until it let him keep track of Yuuri in the dark, allowing him to watch the silhouette of his soft waistline dip into the round pattern of his hips underneath a veneer of shadows and thin bedsheets designed to hide Yuuri’s anxiety over stretchmarks that press like special kisses against Viktor’s bottom lip.

Viktor loves everything about Yuuri, including the way Yuuri makes him love those aspects of his very own existence that once seemed normal and boring. He loves the way Yuuri’s smell is branded into his brain, changing every day like a stitch pattern blurring at the seams into watercolors. When he wakes up and presses his nose to the nape of Yuuri’s neck, his whole body is consumed by the breeze of the ocean. This, he knows, is the coastline of Hasetsu clinging to Yuuri’s skin, like its threaded into his pores to remind the world that a pearl was born by the shore. It’s Viktor’s special secret the way he can trace Yuuri’s core with his nose, taste him so deeply with his lips, and drink him in with his eyes. Viktor believes he had to be born a werewolf to worship Yuuri like he deserves. Anything else wouldn’t have been enough – and those are the times when Viktor’s chest puffs with pride at the knowledge that no one else, no human could’ve ever loved Yuuri Katsuki as deeply and unconditionally as Viktor, a werewolf.

It’s the very thing that lets him take Yuuri into his arms during their wedding and feel like he has walked into his destiny.

“Thank you for coming to support us as we continue on our journey of life and love,” he tells their guests later, smiling as he senses the heat coming from Yuuri’s flush.

.

At the end of the day, though, Viktor is still a werewolf.

Transforming wouldn’t be embarrassing if he were mated to someone of his same species. He knows this, even as he curls into a ball at the foot of the bed he shares with Yuuri. He sighs deeply, sniffing into his large paws.

“You know it doesn’t bother me, right?” Yuuri says, crawling closer so he can stretch a tentative hand over the line of Viktor’s mane. Viktor meets him halfway, rolling his shoulders back so his fur makes contact with Yuuri’s hand, and then he turns his face towards his husband, whining gently. Yuuri chuckles, pressing a kiss to the crown of Viktor’s head. He realizes he literally looks like a large wolf, so he tries to relax his features, wondering if maybe he can make himself look a little more like a dog. Outside their bedroom door, Makkachin paws and whines, and Viktor simply rolls over closer to Yuuri’s knee.

“I’m sorry you have to go through this,” Yuuri whispers.

And Viktor wishes he could speak to him then, that they could share in the telepathic bond his parents shared in their wolf forms. He wants to tell Yuuri that he’s not in pain, that he doesn’t mind, that this is just a part of who he is – an important part of his identity as obvious as the way the ocean breeze clings to Yuuri’s skin. But he can’t, not even when he’s back to normal can he tell Yuuri that he’s not personally bothered. He’s just sorry for Yuuri.

**TBC**

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a present, so posting fast so my buddy has her full story this week. <3 Thanks for being patient, G!

When there’s a full moon and Viktor transforms, Yuuri makes a special meal and feeds Viktor when he’s in his wolf form. Viktor tries not to purr, knowing well wolves don’t purr, even if his heart feels like singing every time Yuuri’s fingers brush over the sensitive dips of his mouth. It’s their way of bonding without speech. Viktor likes to rest his head on Yuuri’s lap and watch movies, lapping at his fingers as food is offered. Before Yuuri, transformations were boring. He would leave food out for Makkachin; then, he would paw his way into his bedroom and sleep through the days.

“Okay, so, what should we watch next?” Yuuri grins, lifting two movies.

They might not be able to talk to each other today, but there’s different ways of communicating. Makkachin watches the exchange from her chaise, lifting her head only for a minute before dropping it again on top of a fluffy blue blanket. Outside, snow winds down slowly, covering the entire city. They’re pretty much locked in for the night.

When Yuuri lifts up a copy of _Labyrinth_ , Viktor’s ears perk up, and Yuuri laughs, popping in the movie.

“Okay, okay,” he chuckles, grabbing for a blanket as he returns. “But this is the last time this year.”

Viktor whines, nosing against Yuuri’s knee. He makes a show of stretching his big blue eyes, pressing his cheek against the warmth of Yuuri’s hand.

Yuuri smiles, running his fingers through Viktor’s silver, almost white fur.

“Maybe one more time this year, then,” he says. And Viktor licks his hand in happiness.

.

Viktor isn’t a violent werewolf. He realizes that, much like there’s different types of people, there’s different types of werewolves and some can be violent in their vulnerable forms. His husband watches the television in silence as footage replays of a werewolf mauling her human mate in the hallway of a non-descript apartment complex. Viktor understands the message – _this could be any place; this could be you_. He sits down on the opposite edge of the sofa, keeping some distance from Yuuri, whose shoulders are hunched over like he’s a minute away from crying. His husband can be sensitive about a lot of things. His anxiety can trigger in a minute, explode into a mask so thickly embedded into Yuuri’s face that Viktor doesn’t recognize him some days. He’s used to it. He knows just how to inch close, tentative and fearful. He knows how to bring Yuuri his favorite tea without a word and just _wait_ for the right moment when Yuuri’s eyes flicker towards him in permission to approach. But now he can’t wait. He needs just as much reassurance as Yuuri that he won’t look at Viktor differently for what someone else did miles away.

Yuuri’s hand stretches over the expanse between them. He doesn’t stop to look at Viktor, who takes his hand quickly. This is his anchor to the present, to live. Viktor is not a violent werewolf and most of his kind are not violent either.

“It’s not what it seems,” Yuuri whispers. “Bad domestic violence case. He threatened her pup.”

 Viktor reaches to wrap his arm around Yuuri’s shoulders to bring him against his side. He presses a kiss to Yuuri’s forehead, feeling relief wash over him.

“Tell me again.”

Viktor sighs, “you’ve heard me talk about this before.”

“Just tell me again.”

Viktor turns off the television, sighing, “most werewolves aren’t violent creatures. But in their natural form, they are vulnerable. Vulnerabilities can lead to fear and, in bad cases, aggression. It is the role of parents to help their pups understand how to appropriately respond to stimuli in their wolf form. It seems in this case, she felt she had no other option.”

“But she’s still going to jail,” Yuuri lets out a shaky breath.

“Let’s not talk about that,” Viktor worries at his bottom lip. “Come on, I’ll take you out to dinner. We can go to that place you like so much, the one that has katsudon!”

Yuuri shakes his head, wrapping both arms tighter around Viktor’s waist as he rests a cheek against his chest. They both know the news has ignited some fear and concern, and waves of both strike periodically into the hearts of humans. Usually, it doesn’t end well for anyone.

Viktor goes to make his husband another cup of tea. He tries to pretend he doesn’t hear Yuuri’s phone ringing or the questions his family members and friends make as the news cycle continues to spiral.

.

Here’s the thing: Viktor has made a career out of helping humans and werewolves. He’s a doctor after all.

Viktor laughs as he uses a poodle puppet to get a baby to give him a dimpled smile. In his long-sleeve button-up, his **W** is well-covered, even though he knows his patients and clients know well exactly what he is. This mom is a first-timer, though. This is her first baby. This is also her first visit with Viktor. She talks aimlessly about the news and how she knows someone who lives in the building.

“They’re moving,” she continues, obviously trying to make nervous small talk as she pretends her baby is not about to get nicked with a needle. Vaccines are important, though. Viktor puts all his focus on that. “No one wants to keep living there. Apparently, a family of werewolves was just asked by management to move, too. But people still don’t want to be there. I assume at the rate it’s going, it’ll become a place only fit for Zombies.”

Viktor lifts the baby into his arms the moment he starts to cry. He shrugs.

“It’s technically not illegal to be a Zombie so long as they’re registered and monitored; why shouldn’t they have a decent place to live like the rest of us. People don’t choose to be sick. Zombies didn’t either; it’s a horrible disease. They deserve compassion.”

For all that humans don’t seem to bat an eyelash at most species, the one that seems to be the immediate exception is Zombies, even more so than Vampires. It’s especially surprising since Zombies were once humans and, unlike Vampires, have no ability to turn others. Viktor doesn’t understand it. He hands back the baby to his mother, letting her coddle her infant as he whines and cries.

“You work with a lot of Zombies?” she asks, her nose scrunching up in distaste. Her jaw is tight.

“No,” Viktor sighs, exhaustion seeping through every bone in his body. “But I’m a doctor. I don’t turn people away from my practice. If a Zombie shows up, I’m going to help them.”

“Of course you wouldn’t turn them away,” she scoffs, grabbing for her bag. She rips past him. Viktor is surprised by the sudden change in her demeanor. “All you creatures benefit from thinking you’re all the same, that we’re all the same, that there’s no differences, but there are – don’t you think about your other patients, the vulnerable? You should put a sign. Some of us would like to avoid the disease.”

“It’s not something you can get from touching the same pen,” he chuckles, tying to make light of the situation and appease his patient. He follows after her. “Ms. Johnson, you and your baby are very safe here – for that matter, you’re safe anywhere – from becoming a Zombie.”

She wraps her arm tighter around her baby, “What do you know. It’s not like there’s any cases of werewolves catching the disease from a Zombie.”

The door slams after she leaves.

Viktor sighs, dropping on his chair as he massages his temples: “There’s no case of Zombie to human transmission either.”

.

“How dare she?” Yuuri gripes, dropping a bowl of curry in front of Viktor. Makkachin wags her tail next to Viktor, waiting patiently for her own bowl. Meanwhile, Yuuri paces. “How ignorant can people be? The only reason the disease is coming back _is_ because of people like her. I bet you she thinks just avoidance instead of vaccination is the answer.”

“Well, honey,” Viktor tries to appease his husband, unrolling his napkin over his lap, “she was getting her baby vaccinated for other things. So, I think she does believe in inoculation as a safe form of prevention. Besides, it’s mandatory in the United States to get the vaccination at birth; I think that baby is plenty safe. She’s just a first-time mom scared for her baby.”

“Maybe. But it was still a horrible thing to say,” Yuuri stabs his fork into his food, angry.

“It’s a horrible disease. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think sick people deserve to have their brains smashed in and I’m glad that’s a practice now long discouraged in all corners of the globe, but it’s gruesome.”

“It’s also almost non-existent anymore,” Yuuri reminds him. “I just, it makes me mad. For you. That she treated you like that.”

“I know,” Viktor nods.

.

They have easy days. Registering Yuuri as his official mate is easy. Going to lunch together on his human-like days is easy. Walking the dog is easy. Inviting their friends for dinner is relatively easy – except for all the dietary restrictions. Loving each other is easy (and the questions Yuuri gets about Viktor’s dick size are _sort of_ easy, but definitely embarrassing). Choosing each other is the easiest of them all. And their families make it even easier on them.

They also have difficult days. Hyphenating their names is difficult. Apparently, Viktor has a werewolf designated last name – as in, enough generations of his family have retained purity of species that his last name has been set aside as one that should belong only to werewolves. They end up having to stand in long-lines and petition a lawyer and then a local court before they can give Yuuri a new last name. It’s all an experience that makes them cherish their union all the more. It’s difficult, but its satisfying.

Neither of them expect the hard days, though.

.

Viktor loves the way Yuuri kisses him. Yuuri just dips his whole body like he’s a step away from arching into Viktor and slipping into his ribcage. It’s the kind of kiss that gives up _everything_ , and that’s exactly what Viktor wants – everything that Yuuri wants to offer, right down to the soft mewl and moans he makes went Viktor angles his hips just right. It makes him want to do better, always better.  

“Yes, right there, keep going,” Yuuri gasps, eyes closed tight as he rolls his hips back to meet Viktor. He’s demanding in bed in ways that surprise Viktor. And Viktor does love to be surprised.

He doesn’t expect to be _so_ surprised, though.

Yuuri comes, explosive and loud, thighs shaking against Viktor’s waist. They drop onto the bed, smiling and kissing as they caress each other’s faces. This is normal. This feels safe. Viktor knows exactly how to rest his hand on Yuuri’s hip, pulling him closer so their dicks press flush together and make them both sigh with the gentle reminder of their pleasure.

And then Yuuri says, sleepy and soft, “Viktor, I want a baby; let’s have a baby.”

.

Okay, so, it’s not that Viktor doesn’t want a baby.

“So, you do want a baby?” Chris deadpans, taking in a long sip from his extra _Bloody_ Mary. “Oh, cow, how surprising. I was expecting chicken blood.”

Viktor arches an eyebrow, rolling his eyes.

Chris sets down his glass, looking only mildly embarrassed.

“Anyway, so, you want a baby. Continue. I will certainly consider all offers to be godfather.”

“I don’t know if I want a baby,” Viktor repeats. That’s the problem. He’s not sure he’s ready for a baby. But, maybe? – He loves children. He loves Yuuri. The idea of making Yuuri happy is enough for Viktor to consider having a baby, but just the thought alone brings to mind a lot of difficult questions Viktor’s not sure they are ready to answer. It’s one thing to be an interspecies marriage; it’s another to make that work in practice. There’s a lot of hard, micro-moment decisions that come into making it work. Viktor’s not sure where a baby fits into the picture.

“Are you sure? You were just cooing at a baby.”

“Yes, but I just don’t know that we’re ready for that. It’s a big commitment.”

Chris looks confused, “You’re married. I don’t think you get more committed than that!”

“Sure you do. Babies. That’s how committed you can get. You don’t get to return a baby if I doesn’t work out!”

“And why wouldn’t it work out?”

“Well, for one, I’m not sure I’m ready to teach a pup how to be, well, this,” Viktor explodes, and the entire restaurant turns to see him. He wilts instantly, hands fisting on top his thighs. “I’m not sure I’m ready. I barely know how to navigate having a human mate. How do I help a pup navigate being so different from one of his parents? How would we raise him?”

Chris worries at his bottom lip, sighing, “Well, Viktor, first things first, I think you’re right.”

“I am?”

“You are,” Chris grins, “you two haven’t even talked about whether you’d adopt a human or werewolf baby.”

Viktor’s face goes slack with fear.

“Oh my god.”

“You just assumed—”

“I kept saying pup, didn’t I? I just kept thinking it’d be a werewolf baby.”

Chris nods, looking amused, “oh darling, you need to talk to your husband.”

Viktor nods, still looking distraught, “I need to talk to my husband.”

**TBC**


End file.
